Remember Who You Were
by Tswayonyu
Summary: He ran, the Satedan pursuing him. This man showed the skill of a warrior the likes of which he had never seen before. He knew he would not stop pursuing him. He had revenge in his eyes, a hatred for his race borne out of the loss of his people at the hands of the wraith. He understood truly now, what it meant to bear the title, wraith. In Progress
1. Chapter 1

Had he been discovered? He stopped, listening intently to the sound he heard behind him. His feet rested firmly and still on the soft forest loam, the still air amplifying the smallest sounds. There was rustling, then the sound of wings beating, the creature they belonged to flying about it's business. He exhaled, the sense of worry dissipating. He resumed walking, his pace quickening as the ground sloped upward and trees began to thin; the rock face the caves belonged to came into view. He supposed he was being too careful about every little noise, but he disliked the thought of the others following him and discovering what he was doing.

He emerged from the trees, the open sky dark with colors of violet and pink near the horizon. He spared a moment to look at the sky behind and above him. The sunlight shone brightly on the edges of the rings not obscured by the planet's shadow. He turned and saw the sheer cut face of the mountains, the mouth of the cave, gaping and jagged. The once smooth and bright stones of the archway were broken and deteriorating, telling of how many ages had passed. The lack of trees surrounding the entrance was eerie, forming a large circular area where there was nothing but patches of grass and stones, flat and symmetrical in shape. This is where his people had once lived.

The entrance of the cave was modest in comparison to the network of tunnels and caverns throughout. The network stretched far into the mountains, forming a system of roads underneath the mountains. He entered the cave, his eyes requiring no time to adjust to the lack of light. He stepped around the fallen boulders and rocks which littered the entrance led into the great cavern, the height and breadth seemingly as large as the mountains themselves. Columns of metal led from floor to the ceiling, smooth and still reflective, not being weathered like the stones outside the cavern. On the walls of the cavern, tunnels split off this way and that way. He had been here before, exploring. The story these tunnels told was of a race, ages old already at the time of their disappearance long ago. He had found artifacts, bits of wood, metal objects. There was even technology left in some places, devices of unknown function, long broken and their power sources depleted. He had collected most of those things into a single cavern not far from the entrance to be studied later. Sp far, he had found nothing of consequence; it caused him to wonder why he had been forbidden from exploring these caves.

His fascination with the history of this place set him apart from his brothers. They concerned themselves with battle, with thoughts of bloodshed and conquest. He too longed for the day he would be considered ready to join their armies among the stars, but knowledge and study was his element. He as well as his mentors knew he was destined to be a scientist, working under the direction of the queen. His brothers were fighters, skilled warriors. They fought with weapons, but he fought with knowledge. His difference from them often led to exclusion, although he had come to expect and welcome that. He could only handle so much talk of battle, how to sever a head, how to dismember this and that. When he grew weary of it, he would escape to these caves. That was years ago though, when all three of his brothers had been living there. Two of them had already passed the rite, and had joined the armies among the stars.

He walked for a long time through the labyrinth, coming to the entrance of the tunnel he explored the day before. He could see his own footprints in the dust leading in and out of the tunnel. He wasn't sure what the purpose of this section of the tunnel system was, but he guessed from the layout that it was living space. There were a multitude of medium sized rooms carved out of the rock on either side of the tunnel. The rooms and tunnels themselves were amazing, although he could only access the ones for which the doors were already open. The mechanisms that controlled them opening and closing had been long inactive. The walls of them were almost perfectly smooth, laid out with designs carved into the sides. He supposed the designs were entirely decorative since they didn't resemble anything like writing. Each room was mostly rectangular in shape, although the edges were very well smoothed, almost circular.

He stopped, debating whether he should continue down this tunnel even further. Currently, he wasn't having difficulty seeing, however the tunnel was darkening. He had lost all sense of color, the sights becoming gray and black. He looked to the lighting fixtures, wondering if there were a way he could turn them on. He rounded a bend in the tunnel, a few steps farther than he had traveled the previous time. At the opposite end of the tunnel, a light appeared. The sight startled him, and he paused, wondering what the meaning of it was. Nothing moved, so he continued on toward it, curiosity outweighing caution. On approaching the light, he saw that it led into a side chamber, the color of it orange.

Once inside the room, he almost gaped at the sight. The walls were moving. Images, writing, pictures all streamed in circular path around the room. In the center of the room, a console stood mounted to the floor. He never imagined he would see a working example of their technology. This exceeded expectation. He approached, curious at the sight. He could see the writing was his own language, although the sentence structure was a little odd. It seemed to be describing a census. Images started appearing on the wall, images of his ancestors, he realized. He became excited, realizing that he was actually seeing the likenesses of people who had disappeared thousands of years ago. There were faces of the men, but there were also women, and children. He wondered at how different this society was that long ago. All of them had a look of fear in their eyes. He searched around the room and saw the pictures were captioned.

'Declared dead.' The picture changed, and so did the caption. 'Joined enemy.' The picture changed to that of a young girl. 'Joined enemy.' What enemy were they referring to? He pondered that caption, wondering how anyone could consider a young girl as having joined an enemy. Surely anyone that young wasn't considered old enough to have made that sort of decision? He looked at the console, reaching out cautiously to touch the control. As soon as his fingertips touched the control, the pictures disappeared, replaced by a single paragraph.

'Wraith, you must decide. It was you who destroyed us, you who seduced our people into joining your ranks. Your conquest of the galaxy will be cut short when wraith finally realize their means to immortality was a lie; a corruption, and not a cure. Time is short. Choose, young wraith. Give up your false immortality and live.'

There were few times in his life when he had felt so terrified. He stared at the console in horror, as it seemed to be accusing him directly. It knew who he was. He backed away from it, the lights going out abruptly. He had never felt fear of these tunnels before, but now the walls themselves seemed to oppress him. He tore through the tunnels, running and tripping over the rocks, the bits and pieces of the long dead civilization. He emerged from the cave in a sprint, slowing down only once he had cleared the mouth of it. He stopped and stared at it, the silence of the calm evening and the forest soothing his nerves. He scolded himself for being so easily frightened. Still, he knew of automated defenses. The device surely recognized him as being wraith, and could have possibly attacked him in some way.

Now there were more questions in his mind. Questions that he would have to ask one more learned than himself. He glided along through the woods down the mountain, the journey lasting seemingly only a few minutes what was really a few hours. The base came back into sight, the visible portion of it buried partially in the side of a sheer cliff. Beyond and farther down the mountain was a valley which led to a rich hunting ground.

He and his only remaining brother were given the privilege to come and go as they pleased, however, he seemed to receive particular scrutiny as to his whereabouts, particularly from his brother. He reached the door of the base, a tiny archway in comparison to the rock face. The facility itself recognized him and opened the door before he even came within a pace.

The living quarters were quiet, and dark, meaning the others were likely resting. He sensed their presence nearby, meaning they were definitely here. He passed the locked doorways, the rooms leading into laboratories of obscure function, only to be used by a scientist appointed by the queen. He passed all these and approached the hallway leading into his quarters.

He was about to round the bend, but something gave him pause. He could smell something there. His attacker, knowing he was discovered, emerged in an instant, knife drawn. He drew his own knife from the sheath tied to his belt, the blade he had carved himself to his own liking. He made the first move, followed by his brother who blocked. They fought, slashed and thrusted the weapons at each other, sparing no mercy for the other. Suddenly, his own weapon was knocked out of his hand, and he was thrust against the wall, His own knife placed against his throat.

"Say it," his brother coaxed.

He hesitated, irritated that he had again lost his favored knife. "You won," he conceded.

"You will have to to better than that if you are to win in battle." His brother said as he released him.

"I did not let you surprise me," he argued. His brother flipped the knife over, catching it by the blade and offering the handle to him.

"It made little difference to the outcome," his brother mocked.

"You know combat is not my skill," he said taking the knife and re-sheathing it.

"You still need to know how to survive."

He turned the corner but turned to reply. "I do," he said in defiance. He opened the door to his quarters and stepped in, trying to forget the outcome of their fight.

As he had aged, he came to realize just how small the their rooms were. His mentors insisted that is all they would be allowed on entry to the hive ships, and that they should become used to it. The stories of the hardship they would experience as being low-ranking members aboard a ship had ceased to worry him or his brothers. They now regarded such things with humor, as being only a challenge to overcome.

The mirror across the room revealed just how much dust from the caves had accumulated on his clothing, hands and arms. His normally straight, long white hair looked unkempt and almost dark gray from the fine dust which permeated the caves.

He stepped back and found a comfortable spot on the floor, where he sat down, legs crossed in order to meditate. He metered his breaths, the technique that he'd been taught since a young age. He tried to concentrate, but every few seconds he found his mind wandering to a different topic, namely, the caves. What he'd seen disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.

He'd known for awhile that there was evidence of an era of their race which was very different than it was now. He'd tried bringing the topic up with his mentors, but they would always put down his questions, regarding the answers as unimportant. They would ask, 'Why are you so interested in a dead civilization? There is nothing to learn from them.' He wouldn't argue, he respected his mentors, but that didn't mean he agreed with them.

Images began to flow into his mind, as usual when he reached this state of meditation. What he saw was random images, feelings, sounds. He knew of humans, which dreamed during sleep, however, wraith did not sleep. He suspected what he commonly experienced was something similar to dreams.

Feelings of apprehension began to surface, and the images turned dark as though twilight. He saw images of a battle and heard the sounds of struggle. He saw his brother, alive and well for a moment, then suddenly he saw his severed head being held up as though a trophy. His mind in it's dream-state didn't form the image of the one holding it. He turned, and on the ground beside, he saw his own lifeless body, his face turned toward his own, eyes open and mouth agape. The lifeless body moved, moving it's head upright.

"Show compassion," he said to himself, staring with a plea on his visage.

The images changed, and he saw a hallway, one leading to a prison. He saw the grated door at the end, and someone inside, lying in a heap on the floor, although it was distant, too far to tell who it was. He felt compelled to go to them and release them. If he could just do that, the images he'd seen would go away, as though it never happened. He must prevent his own demise and that of his brother He started toward the door.

He jolted out of that state forcibly, as though he had dove into cold water. He looked around his quarters, noticing his heart beat faster. He felt fear, although he wouldn't have admitted it. The images had left him with a sense of apprehension, something which had never happened before. Surely the what had just happened was meaningless? Of course it was. He closed his eyes again to reach a state of meditation, focusing more intently on keeping his 'dreams' away.

* * *

"Clearly they do show intelligence." He argued, his voice in tones quieter than he normally would have been. He enjoyed hunting, and often made a competition out of it. He and his brother would travel away from the hills in which the base resided toward the valleys. The first to see and take down a suitable animal would be considered the victor. Today however, he wasn't feeling as enthusiastic about the competition aspect. There were too many other things on his mind.

"The same degree of intelligence as redzak," his brother replied after awhile.

"Redzak don't form communities, or build houses for themselves."

"Still, that is nothing compared to what we've built."

"I disagree, in fact I've read of several instances where whole civilizations were destroyed for the explicit purpose of limiting their development. In those cases, the civilization was deemed a threat to our own."

"You've been spending too much time in the archives."

"You don't believe it?"

"No, I believe it's like our mentors have said, they are like animals. They have no sense of morality like we do. They commit atrocities against each other, without hesitation."

He was silent as he recalled all the records of wars between their hive group and others. In those cases, there didn't seem to be any compunction against atrocities toward another of their own kind. He didn't know very much about human culture in regards to wars, but from what he did know, they were certainly not like animals.

They continued on silently, treading over the rough ground littered with rocks. He wasn't paying as much attention to his surroundings as he should have been. 'Give up your false immortality and live.' He couldn't stop thinking about it, wondering of it's meaning.

It was something that he had known all his life. His kind were biologically immortal, meaning they couldn't die of old age, only from disease or injury. All these abilities stemmed from their ability to feed. Could the message be intended to pursuade him to give up the ability to feed? He shook his head slightly, dismissing the thought as absurd. Such a thing was impossible. When he matured fully, he wouldn't be able to live otherwise. He looked at his left palm, knowing that soon it would be his only means of survival. Every day now, it was becoming more noticeable that regular food wasn't satisfying his hunger.

Supposedly the message was left there by his own ancestors, so why wouldn't they consider themselves wraith? Why would they go so far as to call wraith their enemies? What was the difference between the people that left the message in the caves, and wraith?

He may have asked these questions of his mentors, however exploring or even going near the caves had been discouraged for as long as he could remember. To ask such a question would surely cause suspicion. He didn't want to admit he had disobeyed his masters. Fortunately for the purpose of his excursions, his masters were not present at the moment. They were busy attending to other matters aboard one of the ships in their group. They would return that evening.

He glanced up at the sky which was visible through the tree tops. The sky was clear and slightly pink, the sun shining down and scattering through the thin spring leaves. His brother stopped, causing his attention to snap away from his daydreaming. He stopped too, now noticing a redzak grazing in a clearing directly ahead. He wouldn't argue about who would make the kill, his brother had been the first to spot it. His brother raised his knife to the ready. He hesitated briefly, quiet as possible, then lunged forward. The redzak noticed him only soon enough to turn around to flee, but it was too late. The creature was wrestled to the ground by the neck, all the while it threw it's neck and legs all around in an attempt to free itself. His brother stayed like that for a long time, seeming to hesitate.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he approached. What was he waiting for?

His brother cast the knife aside and lunged his right palm into the creature's side. The creature froze as he did so, paralyzed. This continued for several seconds until the creature lie still, dead.

His brother stood, his face showing a sense of excitement as he examined his bloodied palm. "I am ready to complete the rite."

* * *

He had seen this twice before with his oldest brothers. Being able to complete the rite wast the moment defining when they would be ready to join the hive ships. It was something he dreamed about ever since he was old enough to understand it.

The sun had set hours ago, and the night had reached it's calmest point, even the noise of the wind was not heard in the trees. He stood at a distance from the ring, waiting for his brother's return. His mentor had returned, as well as his brother's. They would witness the rite, and petition the queen to allow him to join her army, saying that he was a capable warrior, a valuable addition.

The world his brother had traveled to was a world within their own domain, a primitive agrarian people. He had seen the rite before, but never before had it carried such a sense of foreboding. He tried to calm his nerves, thinking that it must surely be only in his imagination, but he couldn't rid himself of it. He shut his eyes, but his mind's eye only conjured images of weapons, and his brother and himself lying dead. He forced his eyes open again, exhaling in frustration at not succeeding in shutting the images out.

The lights of the gate illuminated, startling his attention back to the ring. Not a moment delayed before a ship exited and flew the short distance back to the base. He watched as the ship threaded into the cave opening which opened into the small ship bay.

The prisoner would be re-materialized unconscious, then brought out to the grounds when he had fully awakened.

He started up the path back to the base to greet his brother.

Inside the base, he went straight for the brig, either suspecting or knowing that's where he'd be. Sure enough he found his brother standing outside of the vell door looking in, a look of impatience about him.

"He will not awaken soon enough!" his brother shouted to him.

He approached and looked into the cell, where a man lay in a heap, unconscious.

His brother pounded the grate of the cell with his fist several times. "Wake!" he shouted as his fist became bloodied.

"Surely you cannot expect that to help?" he reasoned.

His brother looked at him sharply, his eyes showing a sort of excited and crazed look. He stepped back from his brother, worried at his sudden agression.

"You know nothing, you _hessak!"_

_"Hessak?"_ he questioned. "We are the same age."

He lunged forward at him, attempting to take his throat. He was too well learned in defense, and blocked the lunge, throwing a punch into his gut just to be sure he wouldn't try it again right away. He fell to his knees, clenching the spot where he received the blow.

"Perhaps you should rest," he cautioned to his brother, who was temporarily out of breath . He shot a hateful look, but came to his feet and turned to walk away.

"Let me know when he awakens," he grumbled as he left.

He was used to such erratic behavior from his brother, but nothing like this before. He began to wonder why he felt compelled to greet him in the first place.

He stood outside of the cell and waited for his brother to round the bend out of sight before he turned back to his own quarters.

The man groaned, causing him to turn quickly to face the door again. He watched as the man lifted his head, searching around with his eyes. His gaze finally landed on him, and his face showed distress. He closed his eyes, his face contorting into a look of agony.

The man said something, opening his eyes again and looking toward him. he seemed to be repeating the same phrase again. He opened his mind to the language, reading what he could from the man's barely conscious mind.

"Please don't do this," the man pleaded. "I have people I'm responsible for, a wife and children. Please don't do this to me."

_Wife, children. _He understood little about human culture, and didn't quite know what to picture with these words, except...The images from the cave came to mind. He saw children not of humans, but of his own kind, and women of his own kind, not as a queen, but as mates. Just like the images had shown. He put the images out of his mind, knowing that it wasn't so. It couldn't be.

"It is not I who will harm you," he replied in the man's own language. He found the words strange on his tongue, having never heard the language before.

"What are you going to do with me?"

He hesitated, wondering how much he would explain. "You are going to be killed," he said flatly, suddenly feeling apprehensive about what was about to happen to the man. Why apprehension? Why should he be concerned with his fate?

"Please," the man asked, his tone calmer, more sincere. He struggled into a sitting position, his limbs clearly still weakened. "Can you not show compassion?"

He stared into the cell at the man, astonished at the request. Now he was disturbed, even afraid. The visions he'd dismissed as meaningless came to life. He stared motionless, his mind barely comprehending what he'd heard.

"What did you say?" He asked, although he had heard what was said perfectly the first time.

"I have a wife and children," he stated again. "They depend on me to survive. Do you not have compassion if not for me, for them?"

Could his vision have foretold of this moment? Was that even possible? He looked at the cell door, knowing what the vision required. Could his decision now decide the fate of his brother and of himself? How could it?

He weighed the options, knowing that if he opened the cell door, both his mentors and his brother would demand he explain his actions. If he explained the vision, he would be mocked, and they would say he gave into a childish fear. What if he did not? How could this decision lead to his own death?

Even his modest number of years experience had shown him how small decisions could cause tremendous consequences.

He touched the wall, opening the cell door. The man looked outward in awe.

"I will show you to the stargate, but we must leave quickly."

"You would do this?"

"I cannot explain why," he said, not fully understanding why he felt the need to do this.

The man staggered to his feet and stumbled clumsily out of the cell, tripping and almost collapsing. He reached out to stabilize the man's movements.

"This way," he directed, pointing toward the end of the hallway. The door would lead straight outside, where the gate would be only a few hundred paces away.

He moved with silence, looking over his shoulder occasionally, knowing that his exit could very well have been detected. How was he going to explain this?

"Where is the stargate?" the man asked after a minute of walking. He had grown stronger, walking more uprightly.

"Very close," he replied, only a little way.

There was a noise behind him, he glanced in the direction of the sound, but could sense nothing. The wind was against their path, meaning someone could sneak up behind without him sensing it. He continued on, feeling more and more like someone was following him. He came to the spot where he had been standing earlier.

The trees rustled, and hurried footsteps approached. He turned just in time to see his brother land a blow to his chest which knocked him to the ground. During the next few seconds, he couldn't quite understand what was happening. He heard a weapon fire, a sharp explosion the likes of which he'd never heard before. The man shouted something above the noise, but he couldn't focus his mind on the language, being too distracted by trying to breathe.

He sat up and looked around, only to see he was surrounded by armed men, humans holding projectile weapons. He turned his head to the right and to the left, seeing that he was surrounded. His brother was on the ground beside him, clutching his side over what seemed to be a puncture wound.

"Don't hurt the other one," the man said, addressing the other men with an air of authority. "We will leave now." He turned and looked down to where he was still lying in the dirt.

"You have shown a sense of compassion, therefore so will I. But be warned, I will not do so again should you or your kind attack our people again."

He looked around at the men, seeing that they were dressed in simple agrarian clothing, and all of them were armed with crude weapons.

"Are these your people?" he asked.

"I am the leader of my clan, and these are my kinsmen."

He supposed he should say something in thanks, but it went against everything he'd been taught; that humans were inferior, animal like. He had no expectation to be thanking one for showing mercy, and yet, this was the case.

He simply stared dumbly.

"Let's go home," the man said turning away without further word, leading his men toward the stargate which was in view through the thin trees. He remained still until the last of them had turned their back.

He looked to his brother, who although was still silent, was clearly in pain. He needed to get him to help as soon as possible.

* * *

"They simply let you go?" his mentor asked him, his scrutinizing tone clearly showing he did not quite believe his slightly altered version of the story. He was second in command on one of the hive ships, a position which couldn't be gained without extremely sharp wit. He began to fear he would be forced to explain the truth.

His mind worked frantically while his demeanor and expression remained still. "I was already on the ground, and my brother was bleeding severely and posed no threat to them. My guess is they feared more of us would pursue them."

His mentor didn't alter his expression. "I checked the door control log for the brig. It showed no malfunctions, however someone did manually open the door at the time you say the prisoner escaped."

"We've known for some time the operating code of the door controls has errors in it. Perhaps what seemed to be a normal activation was a malfunction."

"I see," his mentor said, his tone indicating that he would not pursue the issue. "Then I trust you will spend the necessary time correcting it."

"Absolutely," he replied, making sure to appear slightly eager, although the prospect didn't appeal to him at all.

"Your brother has been severely injured," he said looking toward the door of the infirmary. "He will require days to heal enough to attempt the rite again."

"That is unfortunate."

"I trust there have been no other incidents in my absence?"

"Nothing to speak of."

"Good," he said turning to leave.

He stood still, waiting for his mentor to depart, then turned and headed toward the archives. He held his mentor in high regard, and it pained him to try and deceive him like that, but he could see no other alternative without explaining something he truly could not explain. It was his hope that the archives would provide some answers.

He turned into the open door of the historical and scientific archive, one of only two such archives in the entire alliance. It was a huge privilege to have access to it.

Inside, there was an array of consoles and screens, each with access to a different portion of the knowledge base. Behind the consoles,

He was searching for something specific. He paused in front of the console set aside for the study of the mind. The console recognized his signature, and activated. He thought of what search terms he could use to answer his questions. He entered into the console anything implying visions, or perhaps hallucinations. A multitude of subjects were returned, spanning hundreds of thousands of entries. All of the subjects he saw initially were describing mental illnesses found in humans. He narrowed the results to include only subjects about wraith. The list narrowed to a few thousand. Becoming excited, he added an additional search term, 'future.'

Only one entry was returned, 'precognition.' The entry explained that it was believed to be the ability of a person to sense events in the future. Numerous experiments had been conducted by scientists in their hive group over a span of a few centuries. It was thought if it could be harnessed, it could lead to strategic advantage over other alliances. None of the tests had come up with a conclusive answer as to it's existence. Only a few subjects over several centuries had been identified. While some of the subjects with the supposed ability had correctly predicted future events, the same subjects also predicted incorrectly often enough to discredit them.

He stepped back from the console, excited to know that he was one of a few that had this ability. Anxiety replaced excitement when he thought of what other visions he may have, and the decisions he'd be forced to make because of it.

He walked to one of the other consoles, looking to find answers to one more question.

* * *

He listened, although his eyes were blindfolded, he used what senses he could to become aware of his surroundings. His mentor put him through this exercise often, most often resulting in him failing miserably at defending himself. He had didn't quite understand how he would be expected to defend himself blindfolded, but he tried.

He heard the sound of rustling clothing and footsteps behind him, faint but perceptible. He could tell just from the sound how far away his attacker was. He waited motionless, making sure not to reveal that he was aware of his attacker. He wanted to wait until just the right...

A sharp blow impacted his head, sending him crumbling to the floor.

"You waited too long," his mentor taunted. He stood up, the throbbing in his head taking more time than usual to dissipate.

"I perceived you to be farther away."

The blindfold was removed from his head. "I noticed."

He touched the spot on his head, noticing the area was beginning to swell up, one more knot added to the others gained that day.

"You should tend to your bruises," he said, referencing the fact that he had various cuts and blood stains on his hands and face. His right index finger was still swollen and colored red where the rod his mentor was wielding had struck his hand earlier. With each injury, it added to the growing sense of weakeness that had been coming over him. He knew this to be hunger, although he delayed acknowledging it, not yet ready to complete the rite.

"Will this be all for today he asked, trying very hard not to sound hopeful."

His mentor nodded, walking over to the wall of the cave and resting his shoulder against it.

"Don't let the results here fool you." His mentor said just as took a step. "Your more skilled than you know."

He turned around, that statement coming as a complete shock. He had endured years of this abuse for as long as he could remember, receiving only backhanded insults as reward.

"I can say that now knowing that you will very shortly no longer be under my instruction."

"Sir?"

"You will be ready to complete the rite very soon, and thereafter you will join one of our ships. It is possible I may never see you again."

"I thought you had said I would be assigned to your ship?"

"Recent events have prevented that from happening. You are aware of the events surrounding Atlantis?"

"Yes, I have heard rumors of the Lanteans return to Atlantis."

"They are not the Lanteans, but humans, from a separate galaxy. As a result of their arrival, all hive groups were alerted at once to their presence, and the possibility of a new feeding ground."

"In another galaxy? How would we expect to find it?"

"That fact was not made immediately known when the alliances awoke all at once. It was first suspected that a forgotten planet within this galaxy had been discovered. Once all the hive groups realized this wasn't the case, conflict over resources ensued, and trust between alliances crumbled.

"Surely the keeper wouldn't allow..."

"The keeper is dead," he interrupted.

He stopped mid-sentence, not able to process that news immediately."

"Without that system to keep peace among the alliances, there will be continuing conflict."

"How could she have been killed? Surely she would have been well protected?"

"Humans from Atlantis infiltrated her ship while it was resting. The ship was caught off guard, and the keeper was slain. I'm sorry to say the state of affairs means you may have to learn to endure hunger."

He pushed off from the cave wall and headed toward the door.

"Just be thankful you were assigned to a ship at all." He turned briefly. "Not all of your brothers were." He disappeared through the archway.

Panic spread through his body starting at his gut and working outward. Surely his brothers had been assigned to ships; that is what his mentor had said before. Why would he lie? The only alternative for any wraith who was not assigned to a ship was to defect to another alliance, or to live alone. Traitors were not well accepted, so the latter was more likely.

* * *

The hunger had become worse, and he could sense that he was ready. Still, he delayed, doubt present in his mind. He looked into the tunnel, fine dust permeating the air and obscuring the way through. He needed answers. In the archives, he had searched through the records of wraith physiology, in particular evolution of the feeding mechanism. The detail was almost so minute, that it would have been easy to miss had he not been looking for it.

In each recorded stage of evolutionary changes, his species had retained the ability to process normal food into adulthood. It seemed for a time that the feeding trait was almost being diminished as though it was being selected out, and then very suddenly, it became dominant. Not only dominant, but becoming such that only one species would suffice to sustain them once fully mature. The records did not bring attention to this at all, which alarmed him.

That was why he was here. That console he'd seen looked something like a data terminal. It was his only link to find more answers about who this civilization was, and to confirm what they really meant when they said to 'give up your false immortality.'

He stepped into the cave entrance, following his last footsteps carefully. He no longer could walk blithely past each open doorway, now fearing what may be inside the pitch dark rooms.

He followed his footsteps until they diverged into the room that he'd visited before. The room was pitch dark, giving the sensation that the air had thinned out to a vacuum. He took one step inside, and for a moment nothing happened, until the lights finally sensed his presence and switched on.

The same console stood in the middle of the room, still displaying the same message it had left him with on his last visit. He approached it, examining the interface more closely.

The characters on the face were just like his own script, although the interface was entirely different from what he was used to. He touched the console and looked up to the projection.

_'Wraith are arrogant to think they can use humans as they do. It is this evil which will ultimately be their undoing as one day, they will find what had been nourishment to them will be as poison. At that time, there will be nothing able to help them. You can live as Asteracaea once did, having respect for all races, peaceful instead of combative.'_

Stargate coordinates appeared, replacing the text. He sounded out the glyphs, ensuring that he remembered the sequence.

He waited for a time, manipulating the controls of the console to try and extract more information, but his efforts were unsuccessful. He hunted around the room for a little while, looking for anything else that could be useful, but he saw nothing and finally simply exited. He walked through the tunnels into the cavern and out the cave entrance. Each of his steps felt heavy, and he had to stop for rest once on the way back to the base; something which he had never needed to do before. He could feel the growing hunger, different from anything he'd felt before. It was to the point of causing pain.

He needed to complete the rite soon, or he would die.

* * *

He'd worn armor before; it was lightweight and strong, resilient against many types of weapons. He wore a stunner strapped to his side. On the other side, his own crafted knife. He stood a distance from the gate, deciding which world in their alliance he would travel to.

"Travel at darkness," his mentor said to him. He looked to his right to see he had arrived, presumably to see him off.

"Only one world will be in darkness at the stargate at this time."

"That should be the one. Your brother was not so careful to remember this."

He knew the coordinates well, having memorized the glyphs from an early age, worlds which had been in their alliance territory for millennia. He approached the control, putting in the sequence.

He turned briefly to his mentor, the walked up the stone steps through the barrier.


	2. Chapter 2

The scent of trees and foliage greeted him, carried on the humid and warm night air. This world was different from his own in terms of climate, him being used to cooler temperatures. The stargate illuminated the area, dense with young trees and foliage. The gate shut off with a snap, leaving the area in almost complete darkness. The only light in the area reflected from the sky through the clouds, orange.

He turned around the area, noticing the sky behind him was black, and the sky ahead was orange. It was then he noticed the thin trees immediately ahead of the stargate were cut out, forming a kind of slope leading away from the stargate toward the sky. He approached the area to investigate, only to see that the tops of the spindly trees had been broken. Looking between the ring and where he was, he began to suspect a small gate-ship had torn through. Whatever had done this, had done so recently. The tops of the broken trees were still green with healthy leaves.

He looked again to the orange sky, knowing one possible cause was fire in the city. Already, he suspected there were other wraith nearby. He calmed his mind, attempting to sense others. In return, he sensed a dull murmuring, meaning there were others here, but they were at a distance. He searched around the area and found the road leading away from the gate. The people must have used the gate since there was a well worn path leading away, wide enough to haul wagons with goods. This world was known as Talitha to it's local inhabitants. This planet had six major cities on that continent, the most populous being near the stargate, with nearly ten-thousand in that city alone.

His plan was not to go into the city, but to search for a suitable human in the forested area between the city and the stargate. His mode was stealth and surprise. Behind him, the gate rang out. He turned just in time to see a few of the chevrons lighting up before the gate activated. He dove into the bushes quickly, tripping and falling partially into a ditch just as a few drones materialized on the other side. A few more followed them, and finally their handler who arrived last before the gate shut off.

"Guard the gate while I'm gone," he ordered as he moved quickly toward the spot where he was hiding. he stayed very still, being sure to close his eyes slightly to prevent any light reflecting and revealing his position. The handler passed by, oblivious to his presence. When he had passed by a good distance, he carefully untangled himself from the thin branches and followed the same path.

The path was a well kept road, diverging to either side through the denser trees in numerous locations. He called all his training into play as he trailed the wraith, keeping just far enough away to avoid detection, but close enough so he wouldn't lose sight. That would be particularly important since the trail diverged into many well traveled side trails which would make tracking difficult. He suspected the side trails led to dwellings, since the level of wear on each suggested a light amount of regular foot traffic.

He could sense something off about the wraith that came through the gate. He would have sensed him as belonging to his own hive group immediately if that were the case. This lieutenant was from a different hive group, one that wasn't supposed to be here. The wraith turned to the left, following one of the side trails which led a little way's down a hill. He ran ahead a little ways, pausing to listen just before he turned down the trail.

The way was short, leading almost directly to a house. The lights inside were on and figures moved around just before the lieutenant ascended the steps and entered the house. He moved forward, taking care to ensure his footsteps were silent. The house was on stilts to compensate for the sloped ground, making the windows which were illuminated much closer to the ground level than the others. He approached the window and listened, taking care to avoid being illuminated by the oil lanterns burning inside.

"Where have the others gone?" he heard the lieutenant demand.

"They escaped." This voice was different, a human.

"I know who you are. I know that your friends would not leave you behind."

"Then you don't know us as well as you think you do."

There was a pause along with the sound of footsteps against a wood floor as the lieutenant paced around

"How did you know of our ship's approach?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You Lie!"

He took the risk of a quick glance in through the window. He saw the lieutenant kneeling in front of someone who's hands were bound with rope behind their back. In addition to his hands, his legs were tied tightly with rope. The wraith was grasping the man's throat, or at least it appeared. It was difficult to see from that angle on account of the man's long thick hair. There were others in the room, at least six drones. In the opposite end of the room, a group of six humans, perhaps a family, was huddled together kneeling on the floor, looking at the proceedings. One of them, the eldest man looked directly at him through the window. He hesitated, wondering what the man would do, but he seemed to remain still.

"Almost the entire population has been evacuated from the city! Tell me where they are."

"Some place you'll never find them," the man said defiantly.

The wraith gave a shout of anger as he lunged his feeding hand into the man's chest.

He'd heard enough. These wraith were obviously from a different hive group than their own, otherwise they would have known of the system of mining tunnels that were used as refuge during cullings.

He grabbed a rock from the ground, took a few steps back from the window and tossed the rock through, shattering the glass. He ran quickly to a different spot in view of the door and partially hidden in the trees.

The result was better than expected, three drones exiting the door at the same time. He drew his stunner, firing on all three in quick succession and disabling them. He waited awhile, waiting for another response. His intuition told him he needed to move, but something pressured him to stay put. His sense was correct as an explosive was thrown out of the window, although in the wrong direction. The explosive was thrown out the broken window into the treeline he had occupied a moment before. The explosion hurt his ears and head, as well as giving him the sensation that he'd just been kicked in the chest. He continued to wait still.

The remaining three drones walked out, cautiously. They turned away from where he was hiding and went for the location where the explosive detonated. He waited, hoping that the lieutanant would emerge. The drones had almost neared the spot of the explosion, and they would surely report that nobody had been injured. He ceased waiting and fired on the remaining three drones, stunning them.

It was time to move. He abandoned his spot and went for the door, opting for a head on attack. A small object was thrown out the open door from just to the side of the opening.

He tried to flee. He measured three good paces, but it wasn't enough. The device exploded before it hit the ground. He felt the jagged shrapnel tear through his armor into his back as the blast knocked him off his feet.

He hit the ground, unable to breathe, and his insides feeling like they'd been turned to liquid. He rolled onto his side just in time to see the lieutenant walk out the door. His face showed rage, probably from the embarassment of being nearly subdued by just one attacker. The lieutenant raised the stunner, but he was no mood to be captured and tortured to reveal secrets about his own hive.

He mustered just enough focus to fire his stunner at the other. The first shot didn't quite disable him and he stumbled. The second shot did it. The lieutenant fell to the ground, joining his associates.

The weapon fell out of his own hand as his strength waned. He still couldn't breathe, and the pain his injuries were causing added only the desire to cry out, which could not be fulfilled. Instead he left his mouth agape, hoping he would be able to breathe soon.

He heard someone descending the wood steps, and he glanced at the source of them. A man descended the steps, carrying some type of weapon. His ability to breathe resumed suddenly, and he started gasping. Each breath caused intense pain, and he knew his lungs must have been damaged from the shrapnel.

"Hello!" the man called out. He stared out into the darkness, moving his head from right to left until he spotted where he was lying, writhing slightly on the ground. The man raised the weapon and pointed it at him.

"Jarin," a woman called from inside. "What are you doing?"

"Who is responsible for rescuing us?" The man called out.

He wouldn't have answered; the last thing he wanted was sympathy, from a human even less.

The man approached him and knelt to the ground greater than an arm's length away.

"Did you do this?"

He hesitated, but nodded, still feeling unable to speak properly.

The woman appeared in the doorway, partially illuminated.

"Jarin!" she called. "What are you doing out there! Ronon still needs help."

She approached from behind, clasping her hands over her mouth as she came near.

"He's injured," the man, Jarin said.

"Where's the person that attacked the wraith?"

"This is him."

He coughed, spitting out blood as he did so. He looked to the man, hoping that he would just lean in a little farther.

"How is that possible?"

"I saw him in the window just a moment before the rock went through."

The woman looked on silently for a time, the seconds becoming agonizing as he wheezed struggled for breath.

"I think we should help him," Jarin said.

"Help him? Can you not see what he is?"

"I can, but I can also see that he just saved a friend from being tortured, and us as well."

"You know of the attacks that have occurred in the city. What if this is the one?"

"Let's bind him up for now to be sure. Perhaps the Lanteans will want to take him with them."

The man looked directly at him. He averted his gaze forward and directly upward, hoping he would get the desired reaction. The man reacted as he'd hoped, leaning forward to see his eyes.

He lunged forward with his left hand, quickly digging onto his flesh and latching his claws into the thin skin around his ribs. He heard the woman scream, the noise barely notable. The sensation was unlike anything he'd imagined before. He felt the bone and tissue of his body repairing as he fed, new flesh and sinew forming where the former had been torn. For the briefest of moments, he saw the face of his victim. He almost didn't notice it, but he could see the look of agony, the fear on his visage. It was a contradiction, for him to feel pleasure, while the other felt agony.

To the side, he saw the other man, the one who had been bound appear in the door. The sheer pleasure of it tempted him to continue feeding, the experience making him feel indomitable, though he knew this was not the case, no matter how it felt. He released the man, jumping quickly to his feet and tearing off into the woods. A bright flash of red light followed him.

* * *

He stopped running, and sat by the trunk of a large tree to listen. He strained his ears, searching for the sounds of anyone nearby. He held his breath for a moment, but resumed breathing heavily when he heard nothing. He looked at his left palm, noticing the thin coating of drying blood still there. He stared at it with a sense of unease, not knowing what to think. It was the messages from the cave which were bothering him. He tried to shut it out, trying to go back to the simplicity of mind he'd known before, not doubting this was a good thing.

He could smell the smoke from the city, suspecting that much of it was burning. This knowledge filled him with anger, knowing that wraith not of his own kind were responsible for this destruction. This incursion was against every treaty and agreement that he knew to be established between hive groups. What's more, he would not likely be able to complete the rite, although it was not unheard of for circumstances to prevent it from being done according to tradition.

He quieted his mind, reaching out to sense the presence of others. Like before, there was the continuous drone of faint voices and noise. He focused and realized that it was a multitude of voices, an entire hive ship. He looked up to the sky, almost expecting to see the tremendous ship, except the sky was clouded. The ship's weapons may explain the damage to the city. How destructive they were with territory that was not their own!

He heard a noise, the crunch of an old dry leaf. He knelt lower, looking slowly in the direction the noise came from. He stared into the dark, expecting attack at any moment. He clutched onto his stunner tightly, ready at a moment to disable his attacker. Nothing moved for quite awhile, and he began to doubt whether he'd heard anything at all.

The feeling of cold steel at his throat startled him, sending waves of fear through him. He felt the warmth of the hands of his attacker on his neck and the right side of his face. He remained still except for his weapon which he slowly lowered to the ground, a gesture which was probably pointless but what may be enough to spare him for a little while.

"It is fortunate I recognized your identity, otherwise you'd be dead now," a voice said, one which he had heard before.

He turned his head slowly, only to see the face of his oldest brother. His clothing was rough and filthy, and his hair unkempt.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"This is where I live," his brother explained removing the knife from his throat. "My reward for years of training toward the service of our queen."

"You were never assigned to a ship?"

"No," he replied flatly.

"So then it was true what my mentor said, that I was fortunate to be assigned to a ship." He stood up, picking his weapon off the ground.

"Am I to assume that you've come here to complete the rite?"

"I have."

His brother smiled wryly. "How fortunate that you should arrive in the midst of an incursion into our feeding grounds."

"Fortunate," he said, sharing the sarcasm. "The stargate is guarded by several drones and I cannot return to inform our superiors what is transpiring here."

"We can manage them at a later time. It is fortunate that I found you, I need your assistance with more pressing matters."

"What do you propose?"

He turned his back, as if to lead somewhere.

"The enemies have sent patrols out to discover where the humans are hiding."

"In the mining tunnels I assume?" he asked to confirm.

He nodded, stepping forward and beginning to walk away. "They were careful to cover their tracks as best they could, but so many people cannot move through without leaving traces."

"How many escaped?" he asked, stepping forward to keep pace.

"Nearly all of them."

"All of them? That's not possible." He knew at the onset of a culling, some of the fastest would make it to the tunnels in order to hide, but for nearly the entire population it seemed impossible.

"They had warning of the ship's approach. I cannot be sure how, but the humans from Atlantis warned them."

"The Lanteans are here?"

"They are. One of them was captured for questioning, and the others are with the people in the caves. There are only four of them."

"What are you proposing we do?"

"We are going to distract the patrols."

"In order to prevent them from finding the caves," he completed, knowing now what the plan was.

"These wraith are desperate, and will likely decimate the population if they find where they are hiding."

"I saw that the city was on fire," he said, adding to that line of thought.

"They sent ships down to terrorize the city and set it ablaze in an effort to force people out into the open."

He felt a cold drop of water hit his head. He looked up to the sky and was rewarded with another drop in his right eye.

"How are the Lanteans involved in this?" he asked.

"I think they came here two days ago, although I can't be sure. Somehow, they warned the people of the impending attack. Immediately, there was an effort to evacuate the people through the stargate. This went on continuously day and night until this evening just before the first wave arrived. Somehow they knew exactly when the hive ship would arrive, since they started diverting the remaining people into the caves just before it happened. One of them who was guiding the last group, a Satedan was captured trying to defend them."

"A Satedan?"

"And a former runner. He has become quite legendary from what I've heard."

"How is any human a _former_ runner?"

"That is the part that is legendary. Add to that having the skill to survive the destruction of Sateda. It's a shame that he is probably dead now."

He felt chilled, fearing what he may have inadvertently done.

"I do not believe he is dead."

"Not possible, I saw him being dragged away unconscious."

"It is him whom I was fleeing from when you found me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, now that you have described him, it could be no other."

* * *

The rain had become relentless, pouring as if he were standing under a waterfall. The water had long ago gone through his armor and layers of clothing. Even in this hot climate, the cold water chilled him.

He had taken position near one of the mouths of the mining tunnels, waiting to see if anyone would move by. It had been several hours, long enough for the sky to become a dim gray, still he had seen nobody. The mouth of the cave led to a path like a steep ditch which was flat on the bottom like a river bed. Considering the way the path meandered as it led away from the cave, it seemed likely that a stream once flowed out of the cave.

He had taken position on one side of the embankment, hiding amidst shrubs with broad green leaves and tall stalks that provided ample cover while still allowing him visibility. His brother had hidden himself on the other side in similar cover.

He could see the ground of the path below more clearly now that it was light. The stones that composed the path were smooth and large, easily hiding any footprints and traces of foot traffic. If the dry river bed split at all as it traveled downstream toward the city, it would take time to search all the forks for the cave they were looking for.

He heard the sound of footsteps on the rocks below and just out of sight. He kept still, watching. Several humans approached around the bend. He recognized them as the same family he'd seen earlier. He counted the same six, the man and the woman, his mate. There were four children with them, all of them still small, not even halfway grown. They were moving at a moderate pace, the man lagging behind at times and clutching his chest. He understood why.

His brother abandoned his position, although he could not be sure why; this wasn't their target. He tore out of his hiding spot and ran down the embankment. The family stopped moving and huddled together.

"What are you doing?" he called to his brother just as they met. He aimed his weapon at the huddled group. All of them looked ragged and dirty, in particular the woman, who's bright clothing had faded because of the rain and the mud.

"I hunger," was his reply.

Just as he heard that, he heard another multitude of footsteps about to round the bend.

"Throw down your weapon," his brother said, commanding him.

"What?"

"Surrender." he said, aiming his own weapon at him.

He looked to the group of drones and their handler just as they came into view from around the bend. They had a group of humans with them, three whose hands were bound.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked as he lowered his weapon. The group approached, and when they came closer he could see the three humans were dressed unlike the natives of this place. They wore dark black clothing.

"This hive has agreed to let us join their ship in return for revealing all that we know of our alliance, as well as the location of the caves here."

He could only stare at his brother, shocked that he would have said such a thing. It couldn't be true that he'd betrayed his own hive, his own brother.

"Are you, my brother, betraying your own hive?"

"They betrayed me first!" his brother said. "Two years I've spent on my own here, barely surviving! Who's to say they won't do the same to you?"

"I won't agree to this," he said defiantly.

"You should reconsider," the drone's handler said, a different lieutenant than the other from earlier. "Our alliance is currently the strongest. There is no shortage of resources among us."

"That is because you pillage what is not yours."

The lieutenant's eyes narrowed, anger evident.

"Hey," one of the humans said. All turned their attention toward him. "I don't want to intrude into this little family crisis, but what are you planning to do with us?" The Lieutenant looked at him, almost in awe that he would dare to speak. "I mean I don't want to sound ungrateful, but so far all you've done is drag our asses through the woods. When do we get the privilege of going to see your ship?"

"You would like that wouldn't you?" the Lieutenant said. "We are aware that your people can track your location far enough to determine the location of our ship if you were on board. Rest assured that it will remain hidden and fully cloaked."

"Oh," the man said as though disappointed.

"I suppose I should be thanking you. If we had not been able to access Atlantis' systems, we would not have been able to develop the cloak in the first place."

The man smiled, albeit sarcastically. "You welcome," he said bitterly.

His brother stepped forward toward the huddled family and pulled the man from the group. The rest of the family whimpered in protest, their faces contorted as if in agony, streaked with tears.

His brother pushed the man down. "He has been fed on already." He looked to the woman, grabbing her from the group instead.

He heard a multitude of voices protest, the small children crying in horror. The woman shrieked and fought. "I'm the one you want!" the spokesperson from Atlantis shouted above the noise.

His brother ignored him and raised his hand to feed.

"Stop," he said, loudly and above the rest. His brother paused and looked to him, the entire group becoming quiet for a moment.

"Why?" his brother asked, lowering his hand for a moment.

All eyes were on him, and suddenly, he was at a loss to explain himself. Why? Why? He searched his mind, looking frantically for something that would make sense, but nothing he could say would pass muster, at least with them. He began to doubt if he could explain the reason to himself, not being sure why he asked them to stop. Then again, he knew the reason, he just didn't want to admit it to himself.

His brother looked away, seeming as if he were going to ignore him. A bright flash of red light streamed out of the woods from on top of the hill and struck his brother. He fell to the ground, still, his face burned beyond recognition.

The drones aimed their weapons away from him and toward the source of the weapon's fire. He fled into the tree-line on the opposite side, not stopping until he had found a large tree trunk shaded by shrubbery to hide behind. He watched the proceedings from a distance, and saw one by one as the drones fell along with their handler. Once all had fallen, the same man with long thick hair revealed himself, the Satedan. He walked down the embankment and untied the humans from Atlantis. The family surrounded him, and although he could not hear the words said, they were surely thanking him. The Satedan brushed them aside after a moment and looked in his direction.

For the briefest moment, he was sure that the light of his eyes had been spotted. The man tore off from the group.

"Ronon!" one of the men called after him, but the former runner didn't heed him.

He didn't wait to be discovered. He ran, the Satedan pursuing him. This man showed the skill of a warrior the likes of which he had never seen before. He knew he would not stop pursuing him. He had revenge in his eyes, a hatred for his race borne out of the loss of his people at the hands of the wraith. He understood truly now, what it meant to bear the title, wraith.


	3. Chapter 3

Bad language warning...Just so you know

* * *

He reached the edge of the city, still running intermittently as endurance would allow. He knew his convoluted route through the forest would disorient his pursuer in tracking him, but it would not stop him. As he continued, the dense trees turned gradually into buildings. At first, the buildings were surrounded by trees, then gradually as he neared the center of the city, the trees disappeared and the buildings grew closer together. The buildings themselves weren't more than six floors tall at the highest, being composed of brown bricks. Most of the windows were shattered. He had yet to see the damage caused by the fire that had been burning, although he could sense the smoke still in the air, meaning some buildings somewhere must still be smoldering.

The rain had let up some, and the sky was beginning to turn blue as the clouds dissipated. That would be a disadvantage, since bright sunlight would disorient and irritate him. His only recourse would be to find somewhere dark, hidden and easily defensible. All over the streets was strewn refuse, odd items which people had dropped as they fled their homes. There were bits of clothing, a wagon loaded with cases which had been dropped in a hurry, among other things. Everything was silent except for the breeze which followed the sunrise.

What was his plan now? He couldn't likely escape through the stargate without being caught either by the rival hive, or by the Lanteans. There would likely be a struggle between the Lanteans and this rival hive for control of the stargate. Whichever side won, it would still prevent his escape. His only other option would be to disappear, at least for awhile. If he could evade capture long enough, he could simply wait until the stargate was unguarded, then return to his home world. That's what he would do then, evade capture and hide.

Just to the right of him, he spotted a building with small clouded windows just above the concrete ground, a basement. He turned quickly, aside, his boots clanging against the steel steps as he ascended them. Inside, he wasted no time in searching for the means to access the basement, and found the stairs leading down after a few moments. He turned around again and closed the front door before he descended into the basement.

There was nothing notable in there except for a dirt floor and a few scattered items. Fortunately, there were only two windows facing the street and one entrance, easily defensible. He rested his back against the damp, rough brick wall and slid to sit on the floor, silent.

He would normally have felt ashamed in running, as it went against the code of battle that had been ingrained in him ever since he was old enough to understand. The exception was, he must not be captured by the other alliance so as not to betray his own. Also, he knew he was no match in direct battle against the Satedan. If he really was legend among the wraith, having been a _former_ runner, then wraith much stronger and more skilled than him would have been defeated at the hands of this man. His only recourse would be some tactical advantage; hiding gave him that advantage.

The runner had gunned down his brother, and for that, the laws demanded that he take revenge. It would have been his desire, had his feelings not been tainted by his brother's betrayal. No matter which way one rationalized it, his brother was selling him to the other alliance for his own benefit. If his brother had succeeded, he would be imprisoned within the enemy's ship, telling the enemy all that he knew of his own alliance under duress of torture and starvation. Presumably his brother would have been allowed to go free in exchange. Traitors were not well regarded among wraith.

The image of his brother came to mind, images of when he'd known him before. Those were simpler times, and everything had been straightforward. Every decision followed clear guides, every thought was according to the pattern that they'd been taught. He never expected to see his own brother as a traitor. It never could have happened that another hive would encroach on their territory. It never would have happened that the primary would be killed, sending the entire wraith collective into conflict. They were invincible, they were immortal, they were dominant above all others, and yet here he was...hiding.

He never imagined looking at a human and seeing anything more than a resource, an asset. And yet, without reason, he had protested to seeing one being fed on. It was irrational, akin to protesting breathing. Still, he had a suspicion about the ability to feed, regarded by wraith as the source of their long life and abilities, it was also a severe handicap. The circumstances surrounding the selection of the ability in terms of evolution didn't make sense. His mind only produced one possibility to explain it, and that was artificial intervention.

He calmed his mind's state, the fatigue of the day requiring that he engage in meditation to regain full alertness. His mind's eye produced images, and sounds intermittently, flowing shapes that didn't form into anything recognizable. Suddenly, he recognized the setting, a 'dream' he'd had before. He saw the same image of his own lifeless body, in the same position, but in a different setting. Again the mouth moved and it spoke, 'Show compassion.'

He jolted himself out of that state, he stood up, and paced around the room, frustrated. Why was that image re-appearing? That vision was already fulfilled, there was no meaning left in it! He sat down again, focusing his mind again and trying to shut out the images. As his breathing stilled, he heard a sound, a sound which wouldn't have been notable in any other circumstance; the sound of a pebble grinding against the concrete outside. There was only one reason that sound would occur, and that was someone treading lightly towards the window.

He looked to the beams of sunlight coming in through the two small dirty windows which cast their light in long columns along the floor. A shadow, the shape of a head began to move and form on the lower part of one of the sunbeams in a shadow. He stayed still, worried that his standing and pacing earlier may have been noticed. He then remembered how dirty the windows were and how the sunlight would be reflecting off of it. The windows weren't transparent enough for him to be seen.

Knowing this, he stood up quickly and quietly, avoiding the beams of light and making his way toward the stairwell. He knelt down near the foot of the stairs, not able to see the man from that angle, but still seeing the shadow. One of the windows broke, a small object landing on the ground a short distance away. He didn't wait to see what it was, and tore up the stairs just as a bright flash of light and a loud explosion occurred. He didn't stop to turn around, he tore through the building to the opposite side, noticing there an open window leading into an alley. He made straight for the window, and looking both ways, saw the alley provided a separation from the street out front and an escape.

The sound of the front door being kicked in vibrated through the building. He jumped out the window and ran through the alley toward a parallel street a few buildings down. A red weapon's blast impacted a pile of refuse just as he passed it, exploding with flames and sending debris flying across the alley.

* * *

He slowed some, now fairly certain that he had eluded the Satedan. Once again, he employed the tactic of going over his tracks multiple times to confuse his trail. The Satedan would likely follow his footsteps cautiously, looking over every possible hiding spot before moving on. He turned the corner into a narrow road, the road surface composed of rough bricks. Almost every building in this part of the city had been affected by the fire. Some of the buildings were burned to the ground, while others nearby were only scorched. The distribution of the fires seemed almost random, which likely meant they had been started by weapons from a small fighter ship.

A little way's distant, in the middle of the street, a drone lay still. He approached and confirmed that it was dead. To the side behind a makeshift barrier of wood barrels and bags of grain, a few other bodies lay still, humans. Several human weapons were strewn around the bodies amidst blackish red stains covering the stones. He approached them and confirmed that their injuries suggested an explosion had done that to them, likely a blast from a fighter. He looked back to the drone, thinking of weapons he could use. The wrist device caught his eye and gave him an idea.

The wrist device was an explosive, meant as a self destruct, however it could also act as a controller to remotely detonate another explosive. Realizing he could use it to set a trap, he removed the device, along with one of the explosives the drone was carrying. There was still one aspect of the plan that he needed to fulfill. Looking all around, he spotted a grate in the middle of the road, a drainage tunnel. He approached the grate and removed it, seeing that the drain had a ladder and was large enough for him to fit through.

He climbed down the rungs of the ladder, noticing that the tunnel was larger than he'd expected, tall enough to stand up in. The smell of dampness and the stench of refuse became stronger when he reached the floor of the tunnel, forcing him to take shallower breaths. The access hatch above was left open, a sign meant to be found to show his presence here. This ladder was at the end of the tunnel, meaning there was only one direction to go. He turned and walked, his steps splashing occasionally through the mud and water. He paused to make sure his footprints were being left behind. The tunnel came to a divergence going left and right at which he turned left, knowing that turning right would lead to an unoccupied plot of land with little cover.

He passed under three access covers before he reached one where no sunlight shone down through the grate, possibly meaning that it was more hidden than the others. He ascended the ladder, the thin rusted steel structure creaking under his weight. He pushed the cover aside and set it aside gently, the metal still clanging out louder than he wanted. He looked around the area, seeing that he had emerged into another alley. Just behind him, a doorway rested partially open. He climbed out of the tunnel and hid quickly into the doorway. The inside looked like a storage closet, dark and out of sight. He wasn't going to hide anymore, waiting to be killed. He closed the door partially, leaving it open enough to be noticed. He placed the explosive on the ground behind a stack of crates, and entered the building further. The inside of the building smelled strongly of smoke, however he couldn't see any apparent damage in the immediate area. He moved away from the room where the doorway was through the house to the opposite end. A window facing into the alley provided just enough view of the drain tunnel so he could wait and see when his pursuer would emerge.

The sound of planks falling sounded through the brick and wood structure on the ceiling above him. He ignored it, continuing to watch intently. Another sound occurred, a scraping or shuffling. It stopped, then started again, meaning something on the upper floor was definitely moving. The sound worried him, causing him to wonder if an attacker would emerge from the upper floor. He looked once more to the drain inlet, then turned to search for a means to access the upper floor. It didn't take him long to find a set of stairs, the trouble was the stairs led to an area of open sky.

He climbed the flight cautiously and quietly, his eyes scanning the area intently for signs of danger or an unstable structure. He would have to be ready to attack in a moment if something appeared. The upper floor was a ruin, pieces of charred wood falling from the ceiling which looked ready to collapse, gaping holes showing bright sky coming through. Perhaps all he heard was something falling. There was another shuffling, the sound of something being dragged across the floor. He followed the source of the noise, taking care to avoid the debris and to watch out for weak spots in the floor. So far, the only compromised structure seemed to be the roof.

He saw what was causing the noise. A part of the roof had collapsed, trapping a man underneath. The man seemed to be conscious, although he was not yet aware of his presence. The only part of him that was visible was his head which was covered in gray soot. He was struggling to push the structure off of him, although he was not succeeding. He turned his head slightly, just enough to notice him in his peripheral vision.

"That was to be expected," he said, his voice weak. Breathing seemed to be a struggle for him. "First the explosion, then the fire, then the rain. How would I expect things to get better?" He coughed, producing blood as he did so. "Do your worst wraith." The man's plea made him sound as if he were ready to die.

He raised his stunner and aimed it at the man. He didn't have time to deal with anything else at the moment, and silencing him would be the most appropriate thing to do. He fired his weapon and turned to leave, but something gave him pause before he could take a second step. He looked again, realizing the man would die if he wasn't conscious enough to put in the effort to breathe. It wasn't his concern; the man was probably dead anyway. Still, this was the meaning of the vision.

He lashed out, kicking charred debris from the wall and yelling out in frustration. Why was he cursed with such visions? It did nothing but cause him to lose reason and compromise his own survival. He turned and started throwing the bits of debris away, removing large planks and bits of roofing material, causing such a noise that it could surely be heard from the street below. The pile whittled down to one large intact section of roof, which he lifted up, and edged under and lifted with his back until it fell over with a crash.

It was quiet for a moment and he listened, but could hear nothing; no sounds of anything else living or moving nearby. He looked again at the man, seeing that one leg looked bent in an odd manner, probably broken. He was still breathing though. He might survive if his people returned within the day. He suspected they hadn't returned already on account of his presence in the city.

The Lanteans wouldn't deem the place safe until he was dead or gone. It was his intention to make sure he was gone, and not dead. The floor creaked by the stairs. His head shot around, and he moved to aim his weapon as quickly as he could, but it was not enough.

A weapon's blast hit him, plunging him into an ethereal dream.

* * *

He felt his consciousness returning. He hadn't expected to wake up, but here he was, thinking. He inhaled, feeling cool dry air enter his lungs, meaning he was still alive. He had no idea what the environment around him was like, so he remained still, waiting until he had enough sense to figure that out. His whole body felt pained, the nerves of every limb firing intermittently which made it feel like every limb burned, still he remained silent.

Was he deaf? He heard nothing but a dull white noise. Taking a risk to open one eye partially, he saw what looked like the bars of a prison. Both of his eyes opened, searching around. He was definitely lying on a floor, smooth stone. The bars of the prison surrounded him on all sides, no exit apparent, not that he expected it to be.

He couldn't see anyone in the immediate area, so he took a risk to raise his head. When he did so, he saw that there was an armed guard outside the cell, standing near the doorway. The guard didn't react to him moving. He sat upright and looked around, taking note of the structure and the surroundings. The cell appeared to be contained within a larger room, the structure of which seemed very advanced and refined, unlike anything native to this galaxy. He didn't know, but he suspected, that he was in Atlantis.

"Colonel," the guard spoke. He gave attention to the guard, but he didn't seem to be speaking to him, looking to the side and speaking into his shirt collar. "He's awake."

"To whom are you speaking?" he asked.

"Shut up," the guard demanded. The door opened, and a few others similarly dressed walked in.

"Evil fuckin phycho-bastards," the one said to the other walking in just as he departed. He wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded derogatory.

"Got a problem?" one of them asked.

"I suppose you didn't hear about Collins!" The first guard said to the one asking, indignant, angry even. "One of those bastards got him! There's almost nothing fucking left to send home!"

"Collins?" another asked. "Jim?"

"Yeah, they haven't officially acknowledged it yet," another said, "but they probably will tonight when we get the whole situation on that planet sorted out."

The man muttered something under his breath and walked out the door. As he left, another walked in the door, the slightly arrogant spokesperson of the Lanteans he had met earlier.

"Well, look who's awake," the man said. "My name's Colonel Sheppard," he said approaching the bars.

He stood up so he could respond. "Where am I?"

"Well, If you don't already know, then I'm not gonna tell you. What's your name?"

He didn't understand how to respond to that question, having never been asked that before. He remained silent, thinking of what he would say.

"Never mind then," Sheppard said. "Do you know why you're here?"

"How would I know that?"

"Well, my good friend Ronon was trying very hard to track you down and kill you, and we were going to let him. We needed to get the city cleared of all wraith before we gave the all clear to let everyone back in the city. That was a very good job in evading him by the way, it usually only takes him one try to kill a wraith."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"No, that was me feeling bad that he didn't succeed. Anyway, we managed to scare the hive ship away. It turns out that your Atlantis cloak knock off doesn't work as well as you thought it did. The Daedalus was able to find you guys pretty quick and give your ship a good beating before they turned tail and ran."

"I was not part of that hive group."

"Yeah, you said something about that earlier; I wasn't paying attention. So, after that was taken care of, we went to help Ronon track you down. That's when Teyla chimed in and said there was something, and I quote this, 'odd about you.'"

"What is the significance of that?"

"I was hoping you could tell me, because the closer we got to you, the more agitated she became. She couldn't exactly put it into words, but she kept saying that she sensed you were different."

"I don't understand what you are saying. Who is this Teyla?"

"Okay, long story short, Teyla has wraith mental abilities. She can sense when your kind are nearby and connect with wraith minds occasionally."

"A human has this ability?"

"Yeah amazing isn't it? She somehow read your mind and pointed out to us that you had set a trap for Ronon, which allowed him to avoid it. After that, she said she thought you should be stunned, and not killed. And then, when we found you, you were clearing debris off to free a trapped man. So tell me and be honest, what's your game?"

"Game?"

"I'll make this easy for you. I never want to see another wraith prisoner here in the city as long as I'm in command, so what were you doing to Teyla? What were you doing that made her suggest to take you prisoner instead of just shooting you."

"I cannot answer that."

"You won't cooperate?"

"I don't know!"

The man paused, exhaling through his nose, clearly frustrated. "Fine, but just so you know," he gestured to the cage, "you're probably never getting out of here, alive at least." He faced away and left, leaving a single guard posted outside the door.

He leaned his back against the rough metal bars and slid down to the floor with a jolt. He'd failed utterly. What the Lanteans could do with his knowledge was far more worrisome than any rival hive. He'd could have had a chance to escape, but he let weakness prevent him from doing what he needed to do.

Some time passed, he wasn't sure how long without reference to sunlight. The doors opened again, and this time a woman entered, the same he'd seen held prisoner with the others. Two other guards entered behind her. He gave his attention for a moment, then looked away, feeling uninclined to answer questions.

"You are different from other wraith," she said. That statement regained his attention and he looked up.

"You are mistaken," he said, suspecting that this was Teyla.

"I have been able to sense the wraith all my life. It is a gift shared by some of my people. When I sense them, I always sense aggression, superiority, and sometimes disdain."

"That is not surprising," he said with a forced smirk, thinking of his younger brother and the propaganda he continually repeated.

"With you, I don't sense this. The entire time you were on that world, I sensed that it was your only intention to escape alive, and then something which surprised me greatly."

He looked again to the woman, intending to feign ignorance, although he already knew what she was going to say.

"I sensed compassion. It was mixed with frustration, but compassion nonetheless."

"Again, you're mistaken."

"I do not believe that is possible," the woman said, smirking somewhat. "We saw what you did to free that man from the rubble."

"Any wraith would have done that. There is no point in letting a human die that you do not intend to feed on."

The woman approached the bars of the cage closer. "I have seen the wraith hunt people for sport. I have seen them show cruelty for the sake of their own pleasure. And most of all, they show cold indifference to the suffering of others, even of their own kind. You did not show this, you displayed empathy."

"And I was a fool for doing so!" He said, feeling enraged enough to stand up suddenly and yell. The guards surrounding the cage tightened the grips on their weapons, but the woman did not move.

"What I have done is to jeopardize the knowledge of my own hive group." He paced back and forth a few steps at a time, idly touching one of the bars surrounding him and noticing the presence of an energy barrier. "You say you spared my life because I showed _'empathy,' _he said, almost spitting the word._ W_hat then is my reward for this?"

The woman's expression softened, becoming more uncertain. "I don't know," she said. He could see it in her expression, and even more so, he could sense her emotion faintly as though she were wraith. She was fearful of something, but didn't want to tell him.

"I can sense that you have the capacity for empathy, peace, and compassion. In this past I would have not been moved by this, but my views on your race has shifted somewhat. All I can say you is that I'll do what I can to help you."


End file.
